Page 14 of Just for Tonight

That night. It was epic. It was too good to be true. It can’t possibly have been as amazing as I remember.

The thing is, I think it was.

Mackenzie Rhodes. I’m trying to remember all the details I’ve heard over the years, and there aren’t many. I just don’t listen to chatter about other people. I don’t usually care, but this time, my instincts have sold me short. I want to know everything about Mackenzie Rhodes.

My fact list is depressingly short. She’s Augustine’s granddaughter. She works at the family vineyard. She’s probably the heiress to the throne. I do remember her acing everything in school, so she’s smart. She is two years younger than me, Austin’s age, but our high school was small enough that there was mixing and mingling. Plus, she grew up right next door, although ‘next door’ is not such close proximity when you’re out in the country as we were. And our families weren’t close, thanks to my dad and her grandfather always being at it, hammer and tongs.

Is she bilingual? I wouldn’t put it past her. That accent sounded like the real thing.

She’s definitely hard to read. A veritable sphinx. Every other woman I’ve known seems like an open book in comparison. I have no clue what Mackenzie will do or what she wants.

But I want to know both. Desperately. Immediately.

I’m fascinated and I know it. It’s all good, though, to be infatuated like this, to lose control just a little over lust that’s well deserved.

It is hot.

I review how she looked tonight. Dressed down compared to our last meet. Hair in a ponytail, a bit of pink lipstick, an Aran pullover and jeans. Easy, casual, classic. And that night? She looked like ten million bucks in that slithery sparkly evening gown. It clung to her curves and revealed just the right amount of smooth skin. Sky-high heels, perfectly painted nails, a gleam of golden jewellery – that was understated – her hair twisted up to reveal the back of her neck. I wanted to take a bite as soon as I saw her.

Hell, I wanted to devour her whole.

And that smile, the come-hither one that had me hurrying to her side. I’ll never forget that. She knew what she wanted and – bonus – it was me.

But now what? She looks so down-to-earth tonight, like another woman, or her own reputable twin. Every bit as sexy, though. How many variations of Mackenzie Rhodes are there? Yes, I want to collect the whole set.

Will she come to the condo?

Will she let herself in?

Will she knock?

Is this about sex or is she coming to chat, assuming she does come?

I have no idea. Maybe that’s part of it, too. The mystery of it all. I can’t read her, not unless she wants me to, and that intrigues me.

Did she just take pity on me and rent me a place to stay? Maybe she’s still drinking with her friends at the café. Maybe she’s gone back to work. Maybe she’s gone home and is already asleep, dreaming of some other guy.

I. Cannot. Stand. This.

I am someone who likes being in control. No. I love being in control. I need to manage every detail to make sure it’s perfect, but Mackenzie just pulls that rug right out from under my feet. And the weird thing is that I love it.

The GPS tells me I’m arriving and I turn into the driveway of a townhouse at the end of the row. The light is on over the front door and there’s a security keypad beside the door. It has a garage, and the emailed instructions say the garage door opener is inside. I leave the car running, unlock the door, open the garage and tuck my beloved BMW away for the night. The garage door locks securely, which reassures me even though it looks like a decent neighborhood.

My baby never sleeps outside.

Once inside the townhouse, I take a good look around. The décor has the bland elegance of a boutique hotel. Everything is black or ivory. It’s all minimal, nice surfaces, impersonal – and very clean. I love that. There are stairs up or down from the foyer. I go down first, just to see. A family room with a very large television and a leather sectional couch fills most of the room down there, and there’s a full bath, too.

Back to the foyer where there’s a half bath opposite the door to the garage, then up the stairs to a nice kitchen – polished concrete, stainless steel appliances and smooth stone counters. It’s classic because it works. There’s a dining room on the far side of the high counter, four chairs and a table. There are also a pair of bar stools on the dining room side of that kitchen counter. The furniture is teak. The warm wood is a nice and unexpected touch.

A living room finishes out the floor, with a gas fireplace and another big television. This couch is teak, too, upholstered in black leather and the tables are teak. It has a mid-century modern feel. If it had some art, it could be a real person’s place.

The entire back wall looks to be glass, and I check that the sliding glass doors are locked. There’s a balcony across the back, with a gas barbeque at one end. Beyond that, I see only darkness. It must back onto a field or a ravine.

I continue up to the second floor, where there’s a bedroom across the back, with a roomy four-piece bath over the kitchen. A fireplace and television in the bedroom, as well, and lots of glass. The king-sized bed has fresh bedding and lots of pillows. I close the blinds and turn on the fire. The lights can be set to a dim romantic light. There’s another smaller room at the front which could be used as an office. It looks as if the couch there might pull out to a bed.

I unpack a few things, hanging up my suit in the closet, and head into the shower. There’s a lot of hot water, proof that this place was made for me to rent, and it feels really good to scrub my day away. I shave again, in the spirit of optimism, tug on some jeans and a t-shirt and head back downstairs barefoot. I shaved off my beard in an act of desperation when everything was going sideways, in the hope that it would change my luck. Now I’m wondering how and when I’ll grow it back.

I dress down and consider my choices.